


Overly Dramatic Is My Middle Name

by CaptainJimothyCarter



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fics [50]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Parent Steggy, Sick Steve Rogers, We Die Like Men, Worried Steve Rogers, Worried father, fluff and comfort, no edit, sick kids, tumblr ask
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:22:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27377923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainJimothyCarter/pseuds/CaptainJimothyCarter
Summary: Steve is known for being overly dramatic but this time it has reason when the kids are sick.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Series: Tumblr Prompt Fics [50]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952281
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Overly Dramatic Is My Middle Name

Steven Grant Rogers was convinced of two things, that he was overly dramatic at times when it involved friends and family  _ and  _ that he would die being overly dramatic. And quite frankly that was fine with him. What wasn’t fine was the fact that their six-month-old twins, James and Michael were now sick.

“It’s just a little cold,” Peggy insisted, unable to help herself in rolling her eyes when Steve had called her at work one, fine Wednesday morning to tell her that Michael was coughing and James had been sniffling since they got home from the park.

“I don’t think it’s just a cold, Pegs. What if it’s worst? What if it’s the flu? I got sick…” 

“Steve, darling, as much as I would love to get into your lengthy medical history right now, I can’t. I’m up to my neck in paperwork and I start a new client today. I promise you it’s a cold. We might’ve brought something home or they might’ve caught it going out.” She could still hear her husband pacing on the other end of the phone and simply rolled her eyes. She meant this all lovingly. “Look, just keep making sure they’re drinking something okay? Make sure there’s no fever. I love you and I’ll be home soon.”

What Steve had heard was, the infants without their precious immune system and perhaps the immune system of their father were and will get worst. That’s what made him start a steamy, warm bath in the shower and let the boys sit against his chest as they sat on the floor, the steam enveloping them.

It flushed James’ cheeks some and he giggled and clapped along as Michael started to sniffle. Steve took it as a good sign. 

He ran a humidifier in their room. Two, one near each crib where he laid the boys to nap before their mom came home. He doubled and tripled checked the humidifiers were filled and they weren’t set too high. He triple checked for temperatures, but beyond flushed faces from the warm room, they looked fine.

Still, Steve felt himself starting to worry. That anxiety eating him up inside. He called the twins’ doctors twice, the first time too frustrated to actually listen so he accidentally hung up and the second time to ask what to do.

The boys got two extra bottles of breast milk  _ and  _ formula, just because Doctor Gollins said to increase their fluids so they didn’t dehydrate. He used saline drops soon as James started sniffling again. 

Peggy seemed to take forever. In all his rush, he forgot to make dinner and deal with calling takeout, worried far too much to cook. The boys needed him and he didn’t want to be too far away.

The last Peggy expected to see when she came home as well,  _ this.  _ A living room full of humidifiers misting towards the couch where Steve, Michael, and James laid. The boys nestled against their daddy’s shirtless chest. Four empty bottles around them and two more hanging from her sleeping boy’s lips. The shower was still running, steam was pouring out, and Peggy could guess they wouldn’t get hot water in no time.

There goes her shower.

Steve looked flushed against the dark couch, eyes squeezed shut as she closed the door lightly in order not to wake the boys. “Steve?” she whispered, Steve, groaning when he heard his name.

“Dinners in the kitchen. I ordered Thai.”

“What happened to cooking more often?” She purred, almost sounding amused. His eyes still didn’t open.

“Forgot to take the chicken out. Plus, didn’t want to leave the boys. They’re sick, Pegs.”

Oh, he sounded so pathetic and worried and it pulled on Peggy’s heart. She wanted to be annoyed because this was all overkill if you ask her. Kids got sick, they got colds. They got the sniffles. Dear Lord, James loved to put things in his mouth. He was expected to get sick, but Steve was Steve and he was going to worry.

“Darling, they...are perhaps sick, but they’re kids,” Peggy sighed, brushed aside the two bottles, and turning off the humidifiers so she could sit on the table. Her fingers reached out to brush along Steve’s cheek, moving them to run through Michale’s soft curls and over James’ chubby cheeks.

She could hear Michael’s soft coughs, but that was nothing beyond normal. He always coughed when he drank too much.

“What is this really about?” She asked him when he finally turned to look at her.

Steve sighed, his chest heaving to cause the twins to rise and dip without as much as waking up. He turned his head to study her, his brow furrowed and eyes crinkled in the corners as he studied her.

Peggy held her breath, as she always did when he was watching her like she was a piece of art and he was taking her apart piece by piece. 

“You see right through me, huh?” He sighed again, giving a fond smile and roll of his eyes. “Alright, perhaps I am a little worried.” 

Peggy cleared her throat and gave him that  _ look  _ that said  _ really?  _

“Pegs, you know my medical history, all I had to suffer through as a child. All I struggled to do. Even on my good days, I couldn’t even breathe right! And I...just don’t want to pass that down onto these two. I am so worried about their health. That’s why…”

“That’s why you’ve been particularly documenting their health,” she whispered, eyes soft as she watched him rub his thumb along Michael’s side. “I thought so, but I wasn’t quite sure. Steven…”

She stood up and crawled onto the couch, gently shifting the twins so they were cradled between them. Thank God they splurged for the big couch. He wrapped his arm around her torso and pulled her in close, nose brushing over her temple.

“Steve, these two might’ve been born a few weeks early, but they’re strong. You heard their doctor, they’re gonna survive but they’re kids. They’re going to get sick. They’re going to get colds and maybe the flu and maybe a few scrapes knees and elbows and a few bruises, but they’re kids and we can’t protect them from everything, no matter how much we try.” 

If Steve thought about it, it sounded like she was telling herself this as much as she was telling him.

“We just have to be there for them and pick up the pieces and do what we can. This overplanning like this...it might do more harm than good. Hence...James will need twice the many diaper changes tonight and you, mister are on diaper duty.” She poked at his chest, making him chuckle.

“Okay, maybe I overreacted, but you understand why? I don’t…” He shook his head and looked down at her, tilting her head up to give her a soft kiss. “They’re our life and the idea of them being sick as I was is heartbreaking.”

“We won’t allow that to happen, alright? Next time...just take a deep breath and call Edwin, please if you’re so worried. He and Ana will help while I’m trying to leave work.”

She yawned, unable to help herself, face buried into his shoulder. She smiled at Michael’s little giggle in his sleep before he hiccuped, making her feel the familiar sense of warmth. Steve was right, this was their family and family should protect one another. Even if that meant Steve was going to be over bearing dramatic when it came to a few sniffles. 


End file.
